


give you something good to celebrate

by zero_miles



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: (btw that tag only applies to the first chapter), M/M, Teacher-Student Relationship, basically you're getting taeil/everyone at some point, i don't think any other ficlet needs a warning, read that tag again and decide if you're comfortable with it before clicking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-04-23 05:58:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19144948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zero_miles/pseuds/zero_miles
Summary: nine ways Taeil won't celebrate his birthday, but might have in a different life.(or: happy birthday, moon taeil!)





	1. i-iii (johnil, yuil, wooil)

 

Johnny’s waiting for him in the lobby when Taeil steps off the elevator, which is a nice surprise.

“I thought we were going to meet at the restaurant,” Taeil says, letting Johnny take his hand and lead him out into the busy street.

“I got off work early and wanted to surprise you,” Johnny answers. “Did you like the flowers I sent?”

Taeil flushes a little when he thinks of the showy bouquet Johnny had had sent to his office earlier that day. “I did. They were beautiful. I think almost everyone was jealous.”

Johnny squeezes his hand. “Nothing but the best for my baby on his birthday,” he coos, which is silly. Taeil’s nearly a full year older than him. Johnny’s the baby of the relationship. “Anyways, I know that we said we’d go get sushi, but I thought maybe we could make a stop somewhere else first?”

“Sure,” Taeil agrees. The reservations Johnny had made weeks ago aren’t until six, after all, and it’s barely past four. Taeil had been planning on going home and changing out of his work clothes first, but walking around the city with Johnny is a change of plans that he likes. They can come back for his car later.

Taeil’s kind of expecting Johnny to lead them to a park or to a coffee shop or something along those lines. What he’s not expecting is for Johnny to stop in front of a nondescript gray building. “What’s this?” he asks.

Johnny smiles down at him. “Animal shelter,” he answers. “I know we’ve been talking about maybe adopting a pet, and that you were waiting for my sake. What better time than your birthday?”

“Johnny,” Taeil says, trying not to get his hopes up, “you know we don’t have to do this just because I want a cat.”

“I want to, though,” Johnny says firmly. “I know how happy it would make you, and I like visiting your parents and hanging out with their cats. We’re doing it because you want a cat, but also because I would also like to have a cat around.”

Taeil blinks rapidly, feeling oddly like he might cry in the middle of the street. “I love you,” he says.

“I love you too,” Johnny replies, soft and full of love. “Let’s go take a look.”

When they leave the shelter an hour later, Taeil’s clutching a cardboard carrier to his chest, having fallen in love with a orange and white cat the shelter staff had quietly confided had been there for over a year now, and Johnny’s on the phone cancelling their dinner reservations in favor of ordering takeout instead. As far as birthday surprises go, this one might be the best Taeil’s ever had.

 

ii.

 

“Taeilie,” Yuta sings. “Taeilieeee.”

“Yes?” Taeil answers, not looking up from his phone.

“Is this really what you want? It’s your birthday,” Yuta stresses.

Taeil looks up at that; Mark’s crisis of the day will have to wait. “What do you mean?”

Yuta gestures around their living room. “You threw a giant surprise party for me with all of our friends and even some people you’d never met before on my birthday,” he says.

“Yes,” Taeil says slowly. “Because I knew you would love it, and I wanted to do it for you.”

“But today we’re just sitting around our apartment eating store bought cake straight out of the box it came in and watching movies,” Yuta continues, reaching up to fiddle with one of the earrings in his left year. It’s a sure sign that he’s feeling anxious, and Taeil melts.

“Well, the store bought birthday cake is because someone refused to let me make my own,” he teases. “But babe, I threw you a giant surprise party because, like I just said, I knew you’d love it. And I like parties too, but this is what I wanted. Just a day for us to spend together. We’ve both been so busy we haven’t been able to do this lately,” he adds, opening his arms. Yuta, predictably, falls into them and rests his head on Taeil’s shoulder.

“I just didn’t want you to be disappointed or anything,” Yuta murmurs.

Taeil wraps his arms around Yuta’s slender frame and holds on tightly. “I could never, as long as I’m with you,” he says earnestly. “You believe me, right?”

Yuta’s silent for a moment. “I do,” he says eventually, and it’s all Taeil can ask for.

“Also,” Taeil says, grinning impishly even though Yuta can’t see him, “I definitely saw that bag you tried to sneak in past me yesterday. And I looked. Sorry,” he says unrepentantly when Yuta looks up with a gasp. “Is the blindfold for me, or you?”

“You,” Yuta says, affronted. “It’s your birthday, Taeilie.”

“Then think of this as us conserving energy for whatever nefarious plans you have for me later,” Taeil tells him.

Yuta smiles wickedly, and Taeil’s heart skips a beat. Yuta’s smile has that effect on him still, even after so long. “I can do that.”

 

iii.

 

Jungwoo draws to a stop in front of the closed door at the end of the hallway, peeking over his shoulder for the fifth time since he ascended the steps to the top floor five minutes ago. It’s late on a Friday afternoon, so campus would normally be deserted anyways, but it’s summer session. He wouldn’t be surprised if he and the person on the other side of the door are the only souls in the dusty old Humanities building right now.

(The building isn’t really dusty, but it is old. It’s one of Jungwoo’s favorite places on earth, and not just because it’s where he sees the professor he adores on an almost daily basis, either.)

Jungwoo closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. If what he’s about to do goes badly, it could bring his life crashing down around him. He doesn’t think it will, though, and the thought buoys him enough that he’s able to bring his hand up to the door to knock three times.

“Come in!” Professor Moon’s lilting voice calls.

After one last cursory glance over his shoulder, Jungwoo opens the door just enough to slip inside the small office. He locks the door behind him, hoping that his professor doesn’t notice. Once he’s sure the door is secure behind him, he turns to take a look at Professor Moon; he’s sitting behind his desk with a book open in front of him, and he’s wearing _glasses_. He hadn’t been wearing them during class today, and the sight of them make Jungwoo’s knees feel a little week. “Hello, Professor Moon.”

Professor Moon gives him a small smile, but a genuine one; Jungwoo can tell. “Hello, Jungwoo,” he replies, closing the book and setting it to the side. “I figured you’d be enjoying the nice weather instead of staying cooped up in the Humanities building today.”

“And leave my favorite professor all alone on his birthday?” Jungwoo asks, taking a step forward. He bypasses the chairs Professor Moon has set up in front of his desk, chairs Jungwoo has found himself in plenty of times over the last year while he pretended not to understand sociology, in favor of moving to stand next to the side of the desk. He rests his hand on the edge and pretends he doesn’t see his professor glance down at it.

Professor Moon coughs awkwardly. “How did you know it was my birthday?”

Painstaking social media searches, that’s how, but like hell Jungwoo’s going to admit to that. “Never mind,” he replies as casually as he can manage. He uses his hand to push himself off the desk and move closer to the professor; he’s pretty much standing behind the desk now, and the proximity is as thrilling as it is terrifying.

“Maybe you’d be more comfortable if you took a seat,” Professor Moon suggests, sounding a little confused.

Jungwoo sits down on the edge of the desk. “Here?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Professor Moon replies. He’s clearly trying to sound stern, but his voice wavers and he shifts his body in his chair so that he’s completely facing Jungwoo now; his actions are betraying his words, and it gives Jungwoo hope.

Now or never, he thinks, and stands up only to straddle Professor Moon’s lap instead. His professor’s arms wrap around his waist instinctually, even as he makes a noise that sounds like all the air’s been punched out of his lungs, and Jungwoo mentally cheers. “Is this better?”

“Jungwoo,” Professor Moon says, “this is extremely inappropriate and I believe you know so. I’m going to have to ask you to move.” But his hands don’t leave Jungwoo’s waist; once again, his body betrays his words. Jungwoo wonders idly if that’s something they’ll go over in a sociology lecture at some point.

Jungwoo drops his gaze down to Professor Moon’s mouth. “Oh, but I don’t think that’s what you want at all,” he says coquettishly, reaching out to undo the top button of Professor Moon’s shirt. When his professor doesn’t stop him, Jungwoo unbuttons the next two and trails a fingertip down the exposed skin, stopping just shy of his bellybutton. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, you know. Like you want to bend me over your desk and wreck me,” he continues. “What better time than on your birthday?”

Professor Moon closes his eyes. “Jungwoo,” he repeats, sounding strangled. Jungwoo decides to ignore him in favor of letting his hands wander some more. Professor Moon tries to shift away from him when Jungwoo’s left hand brushes against his belt buckle, but it’s half-hearted.

“Yes, Professor?” Jungwoo asks, not even trying to hide the want in his voice as he lets his hand drop to Professor Moon’s zipper and squeezes. He’s almost certain the man is at least half hard already, and suddenly he knows he’s won. “Oh, what do we have here?” he asks innocently.

“Jungwoo,” Professor Moon repeats for a third time. The thread of steel in his voice is enough for Jungwoo to freeze, although he doesn’t look up from where his hand rests against Professor Moon’s zipper. “If you’re just fucking with me, you need to leave. Now. Nothing will come of this. But if you’re not…” he trails off, his voice going dark and heavy. Jungwoo shudders.

“I want this. I want you,” Jungwoo swears, scrambling to undo Professor Moon’s belt as he speaks. Since Professor Moon’s actions had betrayed his actions earlier, Jungwoo wants his professor to have no doubt in his mind as to his sincerity.

Professor Moon looks over Jungwoo’s shoulder, then back at him, a calculating look on his face. “Fine,” he breathes out, moving one hand from Jungwoo’s waist to grab him by the chin and look him in the eyes. His pupils are already blown, and Jungwoo squirms. “On your knees. Show me how much you want this,” he orders. “Under my desk,” he adds while Jungwoo’s scrambling to kneel as requested (ordered? Probably. Either way, he doesn’t care). It reminds Jungwoo just how much they _shouldn’t_ be doing this, and he swears he feels the temperature in the room rise ten degrees when his knees hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment letting me know what you thought, or come say hi on [twitter](https://twitter.com/zeromiles5) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/zeromiles5)! see y'all again soon!
> 
> (ps. i did tag this as mature over explicit, but lemme know if you think i chose the wrong category!)


	2. iv-vi (jaeil, kunil, winil)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things that inspired this set of ficlets:
> 
> \- the regular mv  
> \- the regular/irregular office teasers  
> \- qian kun's everything

iv.

 

“Aren’t you excited?” Jaehyun asks.

Taeil laughs a little in disbelief. “Not really,” he admits. Of all the places he had thought Jaehyun might be taking him whenever he’d said that he had a surprise for Taeil’s birthday planned, an arcade wasn’t it.

“You love arcade games, though!” Jaehyun protests. “And mini-golf! Which they also have here, along with a go-kart track.”

While all of those things sound fun, in _theory_ , in reality it just means that Taeil will watch helplessly as his boyfriend reverts into an ultra-competitive child in his quest to be the best at all of the things. His competitive streak can more than a little hot sometimes (such as the time when Taeil had been a little slow to answer when one of their friends had drunkenly asked him if Jaehyun was the best fuck he’d ever had; if the answer wasn’t yes then, it definitely is now), but not when Taeil’s the one that will be suffering because of it, too. On a day when they were supposed to be celebrating his birthday, too.

Resigned, Taeil follows Jaehyun inside and waits patiently as the girl at the ticket booth manages to convince Jaehyun to buy the most expensive passes they have by telling him it’ll grant them unlimited access to all of the attractions. It could be worse, Taeil thinks to himself as Jaehyun smiles that excited smile of his at the poor girl, leaving her visibly flustered; Jaehyun’s always cute when he’s celebrating a victory, and he wore his tightest pants today. It’s not all bad.

Jaehyun’s a better actor than Taeil had ever given him credit for, because it’s not until the second time Taeil beats him in a go-kart race that he realizes something’s up. They’d played mini-golf first, and Taeil had won a closely contested battle. That hadn’t been out of the ordinary; it’s one of the few sport like things they’re evenly matched at. Arcade games, well, maybe it had been a little suspect how frequently Jaehyun tripped over his own feet while they were playing Dance Dance Revolution.

But to lose a race twice? With no sign of frustration or aggression? Something’s definitely off.

“Best out of five?” Jaehyun challenges.

“You’re on,” Taeil answers, pulling his helmet back on.

He tests his theory by going as slow as he possibly can around the track this time without making it look like he’s trying to throw the race. Jaehyun should be lapping him by now, but – he’s not. Sure, he passes Taeil a few times, but Taeil always manages to catch back up. It’s not until Taeil comes to a complete stop a hundred meters from the finish line that Jaehyun finally passes him for the final time, and he looks almost dejected when he tugs his helmet off.

“You tried to lose,” he accuses Taeil, pouting a little.

“So did you,” Taeil accuses right back. From the way Jaehyun flushes, he knows he’s been caught.

“I didn’t realize you’d caught on,” he admits, dimpling a little.

“Shouldn’t have thrown two races,” Taeil replies. “Jae. Was this your birthday gift to me? Willingly losing?”

Jaehyun grins. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah,” Taeil admits, shaking his head a little. It’s the most unconventional gift ever, but it’s so _Jaehyun_ that he can’t help but be endeared. “I like it.”

 

v.

 

Taeil might just kill Johnny. Which is unfortunate, because he’ll probably miss his best friend one day, but sacrifices must be made.

At this point, he’s almost certain that Johnny had decided to gift him the first thing he found on Groupon that he thought Taeil wouldn’t kill him over. How else to explain being enrolled in a six week class on French cooking, of all things? Johnny’s already insinuated that he expects Taeil to put his newfound skill to use after the course is over; it would be the perfect time to slip some arsenic into his snails or whatever the fuck he’s going to learn how to prepare soon. It’s so far out of his comfort zone that Taeil wants to scream, and only the knowledge that it’s already completely paid for is keeping him from turning around and walking back out of the building.

With a heaving sigh, Taeil resigns himself to most likely being surrounded by middle-aged women twice a week for the next six weeks while some old guy drones on and on at the front of the room. Instead, there are only two cooking stations set up inside the smaller than expected room, and a man who seems like he’s close to Taeil’s own age is fussing with a set of knives at the station closest to the front of the room. The man looks up when the door opens, and – oh, no. He’s hot. _Really_ hot. Hot enough that Taeil’s going to suffer for the next six weeks. Maybe arsenic is too nice of a way to kill Johnny?

“Hello,” the instructor says, giving Taeil a blatant once over. His lips curve into a pleased smile, like he likes what he sees. “Welcome.”

“I’m Taeil,” Taeil blurts out, stepping forward to shake Kun’s hand. His grip is warm but firm, and Taeil is reluctant to let his hand slip free.

“I’m Qian Kun, but you can call me Kun. I expect we’ll get to know each other _quite_ well,” the instructor says, voice as warm as his handshake, but with the intent behind his words unmistakable.

Okay, maybe Johnny doesn’t have to die after all.

 _Maybe_.

 

vi.

 

“Taeil?” a soft voice says. “Is there another birthday today?”

Taeil jumps, almost dropping the cup of coffee in his hands. Thank god his back is to Sicheng; it’s bad enough that he has a crush on his completely unobtainable co-worker, the last thing he needs is to embarrass himself in front of him. Again. “Yeah,” he says, turning to face Sicheng, who has a bunch of balloons tied to ribbons clutched in his hands. Looks like Mark and Donghyuck are getting an early start on bombarding the office with them, then. “Mine, actually.”

Sicheng looks…stricken? “I had no idea,” he says, his eyes going wide. “I didn’t get you anything, not even a card or something.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Taeil assures him. Honestly, he’s touched that Sicheng cares this much. “Taeyong brought a cake like he always does, but besides that I doubt anyone else is going to do anything.”

Sicheng raises an eyebrow and shakes the balloons in his hands. “I think you’re wrong,” he says dryly, “but sure.”

Sicheng turns out to be right, which Taeil hadn’t expected. Seemingly everyone stops by his cubicle at some point that morning, bearing cards and treats and small gift bags that he resolves not to peek inside of until he gets home that night. Lunch is a much louder affair than normal, too, even after his co-workers sing happy birthday to him; Taeyong kisses him on the cheek as he sets the cake down on the table in front of him, and afterwards it feels like he spends the rest of his lunch hour trying to dodge kisses from Jungwoo and Donghyuck.

(The offended screech that Donghyuck lets out when Jungwoo is successful is enough for Taeil to pretend not to notice the kid the next time he tries to sneak up on him; his cry of victory makes the waxy feeling of chapstick left on his cheekbone seem less annoying than it actually is.)

“I told you,” Sicheng says late that afternoon, leaning against the entrance to Taeil’s cubicle. When Taeil looks up at him, Sicheng tilts his chin towards the pile of gifts that have accumulated on his desk throughout the day. “Everyone here loves you, you know that.”

“I guess I do,” Taeil says, feeling awkward. Everyone loves him except for the one person he wishes actually did. Funny how life works sometimes.

Sicheng stares at him intently, a contemplative look on his face. “I’m glad you realize it,” he says finally. “I’m not sure what we’d do around here without you, Taeil.”

Taeil feels his ears burning and has to fight the urge to cover them with his hands. “Thank you,” he says. It feels inadequate, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I’m heading out for the day, but I hope you have a good weekend,” Sicheng says, and then, so quickly Taeil can’t react, ducks down and kisses him on the cheek in almost the exact same spot Donghyuck had earlier. “Bye,” he adds quickly, and practically runs away – but he’s not fast enough for Taeil to miss the blush on his cheeks as he darts off.

Huh. Maybe his crush isn’t as hopeless as he’d always thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/zero__miles) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/zero__miles)


	3. vii-xi (tenil, doil, 2tae)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy taeil day!! (it's still the 14th in my time zone!!!)

vii.

 

The forest at night is…eerie. There’s no other word for it. It’s also nothing like Taeil had expected.

For one thing, it’s dead silent. He can hear every step he takes echoing through the stillness; if he didn’t know better, he would be certain that he was the only living creature moving amongst the trees. There’s also a startlingly clear footpath that leads him deeper and deeper into the unknown, like some unknown being had cleared it just for his arrival.

It’s a ridiculous thought. But so is the fact that he’s even here tonight – who even listens to a fortune teller suggesting that they’ll find what their soul’s been searching for _in the heart of the forest, five minutes after midnight on your birthday_ anyways?

Well. Who besides Taeil listens to a fortune teller?

If he’s being honest with himself, he went with it because he knows that something is missing; there’s a part of him that feels incomplete. Even with the eerie silence of the forest, he feels almost at home here.

There’s also no denying that the trees are getting sparser, and eventually the path leads him right into a clearing where the moon shines brightly overhead. There’s a stream rushing through the clearing he somehow hadn’t seen – or heard – before, and a man standing next to it. His eyes follow Taeil’s every movement, and even from a distance he can tell that the man is not of this world.

“You’re here,” the man says, crossing the clearing in a blink of an eye. He moves so quick that Taeil wouldn’t be surprised if he found out the man knew how to teleport or something. “You’re finally here.”

Taeil clears his throat. “I never knew anyone was waiting for me.” _Or else I would have come sooner_ , he thinks, but doesn’t say.

The man smiles, and his eyes seem alight with mischief. “That’s alright. You’re here now. Won’t you come with me?”

The rational part of Taeil thinks he should say no, but the rational part of Taeil was left behind the second he decided that yeah, he was going to take the fortune teller’s advice. “Only if you tell me your name.”

“Ah, you could never pronounce it, unfortunately,” the man sighs. “Humans never do. But you can call me Ten.”

 

viii.

 

“Wake up,” someone says, shaking Taeil’s shoulder.

“Go away,” Taeil groans, swatting at the intrusion. He didn’t take today off from work just to be woken up early, after all.

“Taeil,” the person repeats. Awareness pierces through the fuzzy edges of sleep, and Taeil recognizes the voice as Doyoung’s. “Wake up. Please?”

The fact that Doyoung is awake before him is surprising, if not a little alarming. Taeil’s usually the one having to drag _him_ out of bed, lest he be late for work. “Doie?” he asks, cracking an eye open.

“There we go,” Doyoung says, sounding amused.

“Why are you awake?”

Doyoung chuckles at that. “I wanted to surprise you,” he says. “Are you awake enough to sit up yet?”

Taeil’s not, not really, but he’ll try. “This better be a good surprise,” he says through a yawn as he struggles to a upright position. His eyes are still half closed, so he doesn’t notice the tray in Doyoung’s hands until it’s balanced on his lap. “Doie, what –” he chokes out, staring down at the tray that’s loaded with the breakfast his mom used to make for him on his birthday each year.

“I called your mom on Skype the other day when you had to work late,” Doyoung says softly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I know it won’t quite be the same, but I wanted to give you a little piece of home on your birthday this year.”

Taeil’s not a crier, but he feels himself tearing up already. “You didn’t have to,” he says. “I’m already home.” Home is here, in their small apartment, with Doyoung. Home is wherever Doyoung is, honestly.

“I don’t have to do anything. I just wanted to,” Doyoung shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “Happy birthday, Taeil.”

“Thank you,” Taeil says, managing to blink back his tears. “Now come here and help me eat all this,” he demands, hiccupping a little.

“I’m already here,” Doyoung points out, but he stands up so that he can crawl back in bed next to Taeil anyways.

 

ix.

 

The thing about Taeyong is that he’s so _tense_ all of the time. He rarely relaxes, even on a weekend or during a holiday. He has a hard time letting go of his concerns and just…existing, and Taeil has to intervene more often than not.

Taeil’s birthday is a welcome excuse; even though the last thing Taeyong would want to do on his own birthday is go to a club and get drunk, he’d gone along with it (albeit begrudgingly) since it’s what Taeil had sworn he wanted. And sure, Taeil’s not necessarily the biggest fan of clubs either, but right now the club’s a means to an end, the end being Taeyong letting lose for a while.

Two Jagerbombs and a shot of vodka later, Taeyong’s definitely letting go of the weight of the world that normally plagues him.

“Taeil,” he says, draping himself over Taeil’s back at the bar, “Taeil, we should dance.”

“I don’t like to dance, Yongie,” Taeil replies, accepting the rum and Coke the bartender passes him. “Want some?”

Taeyong takes a sip almost obediently when Taeil raises the glass, only to make a disgusted noise afterwards. “You know I hate rum and Coke,” he whines.

“Good thing I got it for me instead of you then,” Taeil retorts, using his free hand to lead Taeyong back over to the couch they and their friends had claimed. Taeyong’s even more pliant than normal when he isn’t sober, so he lets Taeil guide him without so much of a peep of discontent. “I’m sure Yuta or Jaehyun will dance with you,” he adds.

“Only wanna dance with you, Taeilie,” Taeyong says, so sweetly that it hits Taeil right in the gut.

“Maybe later, then,” Taeil says, pulling Taeyong down to sit on the couch next to him. Taeyong makes a disgruntled noise, probably because Taeil didn’t pull him down onto his lap and throws a leg over Taeil’s legs.

“Took you guys long enough,” Jaehyun remarks.

“Busy night,” Taeil says blandly, reaching down to squeeze Taeyong’s thigh with the hand that isn’t holding his drink. He hears Taeyong suck in a breath and smiles a little, refusing to move his hand even when Taeyong shifts.

After all, if Taeyong really wanted Taeil to move his hand, he’d move his leg.

By the time Taeil finishes his drink, Taeyong’s started to shift restlessly. “What is it, baby?” he murmurs into Taeyong’s ear, just to watch him shiver.

“M’thinking about how much I want you to fuck me in the bathroom,” Taeyong whispers back, shameless, and Taeil has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

“I have a condom in my pocket,” he tells Taeyong, nipping at the shell of his ear. He hadn’t _planned_ for this, per se, but he’s well aware that a tipsy Taeyong is also a horny Taeyong, and had prepared accordingly.

It still catches him off guard when Taeyong springs off the couch, nearly taking Taeil down to the ground in the process. “I’ll meet you in the bathroom,” he says, a little too loudly, and leaves Taeil to face their friends alone.

Oh, well, it’s not like this is nothing they’ve never seen before.

“I should have known this was going to happen,” Yuta groans, covering his eyes with his hand. “I actually despise you kinky fuckers, you know that?”

“It’s my birthday, you can’t hate me today,” Taeil says sweetly, then turns on his heel to make his way to the bathroom. He doesn’t want to keep his baby waiting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/zero__miles) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/zero__miles)

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/zero__miles) || [cc](https://curiouscat.me/zero__miles)


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